


Benny's Jumper

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-05-10
Updated: 1999-05-10
Packaged: 2018-11-11 02:16:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11139177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Franny desires a piece of Fraser!





	Benny's Jumper

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Benny's Jumper 

This was mostly for my own amusement, but I'm taking  
a chance that you might find it vaguely amusing. I can't even tell if  
it's very Frannie. But it's very honest: that is exactly the same unscrupulous  
thought process I would go through in her place. Of course, in my place,  
it runs more like: "maybe if I contacted Alliance, they would agree to  
swap the jumper for my first born child???"

# Benny's Jumper

by Kira Sampson

He was wearing it again. 

Frannie's finger curled around the windowpane as she stared through the window at Fraser and Ray standing, talking, out on the snow-covered pavement. She was determined to have his jumper. The man she may have to give up on one day, but the cream roll-necked Arran jumper was going to be hers, by hook or by crook. 

He'd been wearing it on the weekend before last, when she had cannoned into him in the middle of one of her niece's snowfights. She closed her eyes and remembered the combination of softest wool and his muscles tensing to catch her. 

His hands had even... "No, you're just being silly," Frannie told herself sternly, moving away from the window. She was through with throwing herself at Fraser. One day he would wake up, and in the meantime, she would have his jumper. 

"Yes!" Frannie said aloud, with great satisfaction. 

"What was that?" Mrs Vecchio called from the other room. 

"Nothing, Ma," Frannie hollered back. 

"Come and help me with dinner," Mrs Vecchio called. 

"I'm busy," she yelled back. She soon found herself peeling potatoes anyway. 

In her mind, Frannie ran through her options. * One: he could give it to her... would that work? Maybe if she asked nicely? Naah, she'd never live it down; Ray would bring it up from here to Armageddon. * "Damn Ray," she muttered under her breath. 

"Huh?" 

"Nothing, Ma!" 

"So, when are you going to find yourself a nice young man?" 

"Soon as I move to Canada," Frannie replied grumpily. Her mother wasn't listening anyway. Absently, she kept peeling the potatoes. 

* Two: she could steal it from him, but then she'd only be able to wear it to bed... And what if... * The sickening feeling in her stomach ruled out that plan; you simply could not steal from a man who was so scrupulously honest and honourable. 

She abandoned the potatoes and went back to the window. They were still standing there. Ray was looking grumpy as Fraser talked and gestured. Curiously, Frannie opened the window. She caught fragments of their conversation. 

"...and then the leader of the wolf tribe declared a day of mourning and reconciliation which was marked by... The tribes all gathered... lights lit up the sky... Inuits in the Yukon celebrate..." 

Frannie shivered at the night air, and closed the window. She loved the sound of Fraser's voice, but so many of the things he said simply did not make any sense. 

* Three: she could create a situation where Fraser had a real reason to give it to her, so long as he didn't freeze to death. Then she'd just forget to give it back...* 

"Fran-nie..." Sheesh, her mother could be loud. Frannie winced and went back to the potatoes. 

"Is Fraser staying for dinner?" she asked. 

Mrs Vecchio was pulling trays out of the oven. "What did you say?" she asked, as she put the last dish on to the bench. 

Frannie surveyed the spread of baklava, caramel and fruit tarts, baked sour cream cakes and rim doughnuts. "Forget it," she said wryly. "If Diefenbaker is coming, then I guess Fraser will be here, too." 

"That's a nice jumper, Fraser," Frannie mentioned, oh-so-casually, as she passed him the dinner loaves a little later. 

Fraser fingered the wool gently. "A friend of my grandmother's knitted it for me," he replied. "She was worried about me going off alone in snowstorms, so..." He trailed off. 

"It's beautiful workmanship," Mrs Vecchio commented, peering at it as she went past into the kitchen. "My mother used to be..." Her voice became lost as she went into the kitchen. "Did she do a lot of knitting?" she asked as she came back out, bearing more full platters of food. 

"Ah... she used to work for the forestry department in the Territories until she had an accident and became a paraplegic." 

For once, silence reigned at the Vecchio table. 

Fraser continued, lost in his thoughts, "...she became involved in a lot of craft work, particularly knitting, which she is famous for throughout most of Canada." 

"She sounds lovely," Frannie said cheerfully. 

"Oh, she is," Fraser said, smiling. 

* Damn! I bet that is the only piece of clothing that he is emotionally attached to * she thought grumpily. * Well, maybe not... * She remembered Ray telling her about the incident with his Stetson. "So much for that," she muttered to herself. 

"What was that? - Frannie's been muttering something all day," Mrs Vecchio 

said, turning to Ray. 

Ray looked up, interested. "What are you up to, Frannie?" 

For once, Frannie just ignored Ray. "I'll get the tea," she said, and fled to the kitchen. Diefenbaker was there, eating the meal her mother had put out for him. 

"Well, I can't take it now, can I?" she said conversationally to Diefenbaker. Dief glanced at her, and then returned his attention to the caramelised rum doughnuts. "I can't take something that means that much to him. I mean, if it was just any old article of clothing..." She put the kettle on. 

"I've had a couple of fantasies involving his long johns," she said dubiously. Dief growled, but she continued. "...but it just isn't the same thing. I don't think he even wears anything under it," she mused. 

The kettle started to boil. Frannie laughed at her stupid conversation. "I'm standing here talking to a wolf, asking him whether his master wears anything under his favourite sweater..." She started pouring the water into the teapot. Still talking to the wolf, she continued, "...and the really scary thing is that you are probably the only person who would actually know." She laughed. 

Arranging the cups, she carried the tray out. Ray was standing talking on the phone. "Hey, Frannie," he called, ignoring the phone for a moment. 

"Forget it," she said, slightly stunned at the concern in his expression. "Where's Fraser?" 

"Outside helping a passer-by," Mrs Vecchio said. "Raymond is calling for an ambulance." 

"Oh, I'll take him his tea," Frannie said absently, trying to avoid dropping the tea pot on the two nephews who were playing hide and seek around her legs. 

The ambulance arrived, the elderly man was bundled inside, and Frannie handed Fraser his tea. 

"Thanks," he smiled. 

"No problem," she said. "Come inside, it's cold out here." 

"Oh," he said, immediately concerned. "Would you like my jumper?" 

A myriad of images ran through Frannie's mind: Fraser in that jumper, her running her hands over that jumper, Fraser and her huddling together and sharing the jumper for warmth... and then, his expression at dinner. 

"Naah," she said, smiling at him in return. "Just come inside." 

* * *

  



End file.
